


Analysis of Maladaptive Behaviors

by onemechanicalalligator



Series: Topics in Romance and Recovery [4]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: Troy moves his hand across Abed's skin, as though he can erase the marks with his touch, and his hand is warm, and Abed is trapped in a web of emotion and sensation and it's too much for him to make sense of.Troy and Abed discuss one of Abed's coping mechanisms. Warning: This fic is almost exclusively about self harm.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Series: Topics in Romance and Recovery [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775179
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162





	Analysis of Maladaptive Behaviors

Abed and Troy are lying on the bottom bunk, both clad in only their underwear because it's really, really hot in the apartment. Troy told Abed he would fix the air conditioner before he leaves, but right now they're focused only on each other, and they can bear the heat. 

They reminisce about their adventures at Greendale, about _Troy & Abed in the Morning, _ and chicken fingers, and boiled yams. Abed thinks he could stay like this forever, just spend the rest of his life on this mattress talking to the man he loves. 

They're quiet for a while, and then Troy reaches over and places his hand gently on Abed's hip, right over the cluster of scars that extends like a constellation down the top of his leg. Abed freezes, and he doesn't know what to say, or if he's supposed to say anything at all, so he just waits. 

Troy moves his hand across Abed's skin, as though he can erase the marks with his touch, and his hand is warm, and Abed is trapped in a web of emotion and sensation and it's too much for him to make sense of. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing. 

"You okay?" Troy asks, and Abed hears the concern in his voice, and he nods but his breath stutters a little, and he's not really panicking, but he's not _not_ panicking, either. 

"I'm feeling too many things," he mutters. "Mostly shame and arousal, I think, and it's a weird combination and I don't know how to…" 

He's interrupted by Troy pulling him into a hug, squeezing so hard it would be uncomfortable in any other circumstance, but it's exactly what Abed needs right now, and he feels like he's returning to himself. 

"I'm sorry," Troy whispers into his neck. "I didn't mean to…" 

"No, it's okay," Abed says quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Um, do you want to talk about it now?" He knows there will never be a good time to discuss these things, so he figures maybe they should just get it over with. 

"Is that…okay with you?" Troy asks. "It's alright if you want to wait." 

"It's fine," Abed says. "I promise." 

Troy doesn't speak right away, and Abed's heart is beating fast, and he's sure Troy can feel it, still pressed against his chest. 

"When did it start?" he finally asks, and his voice cracks a little. "Was it...before or after I left?" 

"After," Abed says. "It was…it was after Hickey handcuffed me--" 

"Yeah, that's another thing I wanted to ask you about," Troy interjects. "You mentioned that before. What happened?" 

Abed is so tired of telling this story, because it's embarrassing and he doesn't particularly like reliving it. But he also wants to have an honest relationship with Troy, and the more he thinks about it, it does kind of hold some significance in this whole mess.

"I accidentally destroyed his drawings and he wanted to make me miss my movie so I would understand that my actions have consequences,” Abed says. “He said he wouldn't just walk on eggshells around me like everybody else." 

Abed is surprised how vivid the memory still is, all these weeks later. Sometimes the things Hickey said show up in his nightmares, and Abed isn't sure why, exactly. 

"So he handcuffed me to his file cabinet, and then we argued, and then he let me go and we kind of made up, and then Jeff talked to him and I guess he said he was sorry but he hasn't actually said it to me." 

Abed pulls back a little so he can see Troy's face. Troy's eyes are wide, but he's not saying anything. After a moment he lets out a huge breath. 

"Abed, you understand that…"

"It's not okay that he handcuffed me. Yes. Jeff and I have discussed it kind of extensively."

"Okay. Good. Then I won't make you keep talking about it. But you…you said it was after that? When you started…" He trails off.

Abed appreciates Troy not saying it out loud, because he hates hearing it. He hates saying it. He hates that he still thinks about it, more often than he would ever admit to anybody. 

"It broke the skin. Where he handcuffed me," he says, and offers up his wrist, the one he wanted to hide from Troy only a few hours ago, the one with the permanent bracelet of oddly-shaped scars. 

Troy doesn't say anything, just waits, like he knows that isn't all, and he's giving Abed the space to continue. Abed appreciates that he doesn't push, because this isn't a story he can tell under pressure. He's certainly tried enough times.

"When it scabbed over, I started to pick at it. The first time, I didn't even realize I was doing it until I saw the blood on my sleeve. But it was like…" He pauses, tries to figure out how to explain. "It was like everything just kind of settled. Like I had been feeling so sad and empty and spaced-out and broken, and it snapped me out of it. At least for a little while. So I kept doing it." 

"Picking at it?" 

"Yeah. Except then I picked at it so much I had to wrap it up, so then I couldn't do it anymore, and I started scratching my arms instead. I didn't mean to do that, either, the first time. It just kind of happened. Like at that point my brain just _knew,_ this is how you make it feel better." 

He turns his arms so his palms are facing up, and Troy touches his forearm, the faint shadows of lines barely visible. 

"Then what?" Troy says softly, and takes Abed's hand. 

"Um," Abed says, and his mouth is dry and his eyes are not. "I have this Xact-o knife."

"I remember," Troy says, and his voice is strange, and Abed panics a little.

"I'm sorry," he says, because he can't think of anything else to say right now. 

"Don't be sorry," Troy says. "I asked." 

"It's just that this is the part where I flip the switch, where I become messed up for real," Abed tries to explain. "Before I could claim I didn't mean to do it, and I could almost believe that. But you don't accidentally cut your hip with an Xact-o knife. There's no timeline where that just _happens."_

"Why your hip?" Troy asks, and then looks guilty, like he thinks he shouldn't have asked. 

"I didn't think anyone would ever see it," Abed says, and there's something about that that makes him spill over, and he looks at Troy but he's all blurry from the tears. 

When Abed breathes in there's this strangled sound, like he's forgotten how to inhale, and then Troy's arms are around him again, pulling him close. Abed can't believe he's here, can't believe Troy is with him, holding him, loving him, despite everything he's done to himself. 

He cries and cries and somewhere in the back of his mind he notices how much safer it feels to cry in the embrace of someone you love, rather than alone in bed, or in a storage closet, or on a shower floor. He realizes he doesn’t feel ashamed of the fact that he’s crying, which is definitely new. Troy rubs circles on his back and gently rocks him, and he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. 

Abed finally relaxes and Troy lets go, slowly at first, giving Abed the choice to move if he wants to. Abed doesn't want to, but his face feels wet and itchy, so he leans over and grabs his t-shirt from the floor and uses that to clean up a little. 

"Um," Abed says, his voice thick, and he clears his throat. "Can we talk about something else now?" 

"Yeah," Troy replies. "But thank you. For telling me. I just…want to try to understand, so that I can be here for you. So…thank you." 

"I love you," Abed says, surprising himself because he meant to say _you're welcome._

But this works too. 


End file.
